


but who can say

by shyfoxes



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types, inFAMOUS: Second Son
Genre: Crossover Pairings, Desmond Miles Lives, Desmond at Curdun Cay AU, First Meetings, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Reggie Rowe Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-20 00:04:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16544912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shyfoxes/pseuds/shyfoxes
Summary: With nothing but a nameplate saying "seventeen", Delsin meets a guy like no one he's ever known.





	but who can say

There was a door that Delsin couldn’t remember having seen. He’d been running back and forth, busting open cells and kicking DUP ass, but he’d never noticed the door before. It wasn’t near as flashy as the other cells. No fanfare, nothing to even call any attention to it. It might have just been some shitty wall art for all he knew.

If Delsin hadn’t been retracing his steps, double checking that no Conduit was getting left behind, he would have never found it.

For all the flashiness in keeping every Conduit sealed according to their powers, this one was odd. No name, no power designation, no window into the room. Just a plain, engraved “17” etched into the nameplate to the side.

When he’d messaged Fetch to ask around about “17”, no one could give him an answer. No one knew who was in there, what they looked like, what their power was. They couldn’t even remember when anyone named “17” had even arrived. Just the faint whisperings of a man dumped on Curdun Cay’s doorstep, and hidden in the dark ever since.

Whoever had sent him, made sure that it was a one way ticket.

It had taken Eugene two hours before they’d broken the door open. Two agonizing hours where Delsin was bracing for all the different things that could be in that room. Someone mad strong? Someone so strong that they needed this level of maximum security? Someone whose powers were probably in the realm of a God themselves? Hell, Delsin was almost ready to believe it was Augustine’s own mother the way the time seemed to tick by.

Then the doors had unlocked, hissing and unhinging, sliding open at an agonizing pace. Delsin strained his eyes, only just barely held back by Reggie’s hand on his shoulder. Bracing, waiting.

Nothing.

They waited a few more moments. Still nothing.

He turned to Eugene. “You sure there’s someone in there?” He muttered.

Before Eugene could answer, Delsin was already barging into the room, a loud Helllooo on his tongue as he tried to urge for an answer. His eyes settled on a figure, slumped into the corner of the room and looking just about alive. He wore the same inmate oranges as the others, only his looked far too loose on his frame, like it was swallowing him up. 17, or whatever his name was, looked like he should be around Reggie’s height, maybe even more. But he was so small, too, bones and skin, and, shit, just one arm, which lay uselessly across his belly. The stump of his other arm moved until the guy seemed to realize he couldn’t wave with that one, and grunted to use the other to do so. He was gaunt, alive, but looking like that was almost begrudging in a way.

“Are you,” Delsin internally cursed at the way he hesitated. “Are you 17?”

The guy snickered, smiling lopsidedly. “Again with that name. What was wrong with my real one?” He muttered to himself. To Delsin, he said, “Yeah, that’s me. Who’s asking?”

“Delsin Rowe, aka The Smoking Guy, aka your hero,” Delsin tried to joke. “This is a prison break. You up for escaping?”

17’s eyebrows jumped, his expression melting into amusement. He gave his room a brief once-over like he was really considering not moving and staying forgotten in some dinky backroom. He looked to Delsin.

“Yeah, why not. I’ve got nowhere else to be. Mind helping a guy out?” 17 asked, waving his good hand.

“Delsin? You still alive in there?” Reggie called.

Delsin rolled his eyes, shaking his head with an easy smile. He walked towards 17 as he addressed his brother. “I’m fine, Reg. You’re the one who shouldn’t be out and about just yet. Let the professionals handle this?”

“What, you think crushed legs and some new prosthetics are gonna slow me down? I may not be a big bad Conduit, but I can hold my own,” Reggie snarked back.

He could hear the affection in his tone, grounding him when his mind and body briefly repelled, remembering the grief he’d felt when he thought he’d lost his only family. The relief when Eugene and Fetch had saved him, tried to remind him that he should probably bust Reggie out of the concrete first before he went bawling and hugging him all over. Not a lot of time had passed since then. There hadn’t been much time to really let it all flow over him.

“So be real with me, dude. 17’s not really your name is it?” Delsin asked, extending a hand.

17 snorted, easing himself around to the edge of the bed. Despite the way his bones seemed to grind on each other, 17 moved as best as he could. He reached out - “Nah, not really. My real name’s - “ - and took Delsin’s hand.

Like a punch to the gut, a wash of memories overwhelmed him. Where there would be just the guy’s voice, there was a painful overlay of many voices, all different languages, all different accents; laughing, _Desmond_ , screaming, _Desmond_ , whispering, a jumble of people that didn’t look anything like this guy, _Desmond_ , moving and moving, flashes of gold, a bone-deep pain, a searing fire -

It wasn’t until Reggie was gathering him up in his arms that Delsin had realized he’d fallen back away from the guy.

17 - Desmond had toppled over on the floor, too. His eyes were wide, too wide, glazed over and golden. He looked unblinkingly and Delsin and then passed out.

“Delsin.” Reggie shook him, cradled his face, trying to get him to look at him. “What happened? Did you absorb his power? Talk to me, Del”

When he tried to talk, no words came. Like his body couldn’t remember itself. Like mind and body weren’t one. Ghost flashes of movement and yet he wasn’t the one doing it. His eyes flew wide, breath picking up speed. Reggie clung on tighter.

“Hey, hey, calm down! Calm down, it’ll be okay. Breathe with me, no, no, with me! Breathe, little brother,” Reggie soothed.

A tingle of touch came back into his feet, worked its way slow. Too slow.

“Rehg,” Delsin slurred. “Hehlp him.”

His vision grew dark, rupturing with static as he fought to stay awake. Reggie’s face swam in front of his eyes, growing more muddled by the second, until he didn’t really feel anything at all

-

Delsin woke up when Reggie was dragging him halfway back to the buses waiting to cart everyone out of Curdun Cay. He woke with a start, nearly toppling the two of them in the process. He stumbled onto his own feet, swaying for a moment before it seemed like his body and mind had realigned itself. His head was still throbbing, though, his eyes a little too sensitive. **  
**

“You doing okay?” Reggie asked. “You gotta stop scaring me like that, you know.”

Delsin steadied himself, then fell into step with his brother as they followed the crowds of Conduits out towards the buses. He could see Fetch’s bright hair corralling the Conduits, or rather, trying. He’d have to help her as soon as his head stopped spinning in a minute.

Delsin rubbed his eyes. “Sorry. Didn’t think it was going to happen.”

Why did Fetch look blue? Hell, why did Reggie? He shook his head a few times and the colors were gone.

“Did you at least get a new power?”

“No, actually. Just a headache. There was no power as far as I could tell. It was - weird.”

“Weird how?”

“Just. Weird. Normally I get like, uh, a slideshow of whoever I absorb’s life. With him, it wasn’t just his. It was a ton of people. There were so many of them.” Delsin looked at the palm of his right hand. He furrowed his brows. “Something really bad happened to him, though. Before he came here. I felt it, and that’s what knocked us both on our asses.”

“I see,” Reggie muttered.

They stopped together watching as Fetch was waving the buses down the pathway out of Curdun Cay, the eruption of hollering through the windows. Delsin couldn’t help the wry grin that rose up on his face.

“Where’s Desmond?”

“Desmond?”

“17. His name’s Desmond.”

Reggie pointed to the dinky car he’d brought along with the buses. In the back, Desmond was leaning against the far side of the back seat, cushioned against the glass. He looked almost fragile.

“He’s breathing though, right?” Delsin weakly joked.

“Yeah, he is. They did a number on him, but he looks like he’ll pull through. Then he’ll be out and about making my hair gray like all the other - Conduits.”

Delsin elbowed him. “Thanks, Reg.”

-

It was a few more weeks until Delsin had gotten to see Desmond again.

He’d kind of just let the whole thing go. The DUP were disbanding, crumbling away and the people in Seattle, normies and Conduits, were banding together. It wasn’t without its hiccups, a few Conduits who got too far off their high horses, asses kicked swiftly by others, but otherwise, things were going well. Conduits and humans could live just fine with each other. Delsin hoped that revelation was a giant middle finger to Augustine herself.

In between it, Delsin’s eyes had been acting up. He didn’t really know how to tell anyone and mostly opted not to. Normal people, every day nobodies, there were times they were bathed in a neutral glowing white. People like Fetch, or Reg, or Eugene, they glowed a strong blue. Hell, drug runners were glowing red. And if he wanted to find something but couldn’t remember where it was? He’d look around a bit and boom, right there, glowing gold and bright, like Desmond’s eyes had when he’d last saw them.

He’d stumbled upon the other man by accident, really. It wasn’t like he was expecting to find the guy lounging around on rooftops and looking like he’d belonged up there. To be fair, he hadn’t even flinched when Delsin had come careening in, misstepping by accident and flaring out smoke in his haste as he landed. Across the roof, Desmond was propped up against a wall, leg dangling off the edge and looking more than a little amused.

“Come here often?” Delsin’s mouth said. Delsin brain said, _Dude what the hell_.

“To this particular rooftop or to Seattle?” Desmond quipped.

“Uhhh. Yes,” Delsin replied.

Desmond fixed him with a look. “Then yes. Also.”

“Rude.”

Desmond was looking good though. Better was the right word. He’d filled out better, put on weight. He must have finally been eating. Where the stump of his right arm used to be, there was a new prosthetic arm. If not for his fingers peeking through the sleeves, Delsin might have thought he’d grown it back. His face wasn’t so ashen, browning in the coming summer sun, and his eyes golden like a hawk’s under the cover of his lashes. Delsin cursed himself, willing away the thoughts. To make a long story short, Delsin was relieved Desmond was no longer a skeleton. Pretty eyes and all.

_Stop that._

“Actually, now that you’re here, there’s something I’ve been mulling over talking to you about,” Delsin began. “And it all has to do with when I touched your hand back in your cell.”

“That’s a little gay, but go on.”

Delsin snorted. “Dude.”

Desmond shrugged. “I never said I had a problem with it. Hand holding, go on.”

“Not hand holding! Touching! We touched hands -” Desmond muttered gay again. “We touched hands and I like saw some weird shit.”

“Weird how?”

“Weird like a bazillion people running around in my head. Weird like sometimes when I look at people they change colors. Weird like, what the hell kind of Conduit power do you even _have_?”

“Oh.” Desmond exhaled. “Well. I’m not a Conduit.”

“Har har. Be real with me, what’s your power?”

“No power, I’m not a Conduit.”

“No, no way. There’s no way. Why would they put a normie in Curdun Cay if you weren’t a Conduit? What’s up with you? What _are_ you?”

Desmond gave a wry grin. “A goddamn mess.”

-

Hours later, with Delsin kicking off his high tops and stretching out on Desmond’s couch, Delsin had learned what kind of goddamn mess Desmond was. His head was throbbing.

Assassins, Templars, conspiracies, ancestors, machines, asshole fathers, off-grid childhoods, evil demi-god overlords, _Eagle Sense_. It was a lot to take in. A lot to try and make sense of. Delsin wanted to call bullshit so bad, but he was also the guy who could drain neon out of a sign and hogtie people up with it. Desmond’s whole schtick took things up to like an eleven on a scale of one to five.

“Des,” Delsin started. “I kinda wish you’d just lied to me and told me your power was being suspicious.”

Desmond shrugged. “My power is being suspicious.”

“Not helping.”

“Even though I’m not a Conduit, I guess you ended up copying my Eagle Sense anyway.” Desmond sipped his coffee. “That’s actually a little cool.”

“What is Eagle Sense anyway?”

Desmond paused, thinking. “It’s like a thing passed down from Assassins with high concentrations of First Civilization blood. It’s a sixth sense. Know your allies and your enemies, your goals, hidden paths, objects of interest. See the echo of people long past. The first time I used it, I passed out. No lie.”

Delsin pressed his fingers into his temple harder. The more he learned the less he understood.

“No lie? Jeezus. And it was because of that thing. The Bleeding Effect?”

“Yep. Because I spent too long strapped in the Animus. It was tearing my mind apart.”

“Dude, how are you even still alive?”

“I literally have no idea.”

“Huh. Well, for what it’s worth. I’m glad you’re alive. You and your weird ass DNA and eagle sense. Thanks for it, by the way. I stopped someone from trying to mug this lady the other day because of it.”

Desmond scoffed, grinning after. “You're welcome, I guess.”

**Author's Note:**

> two stupid bisexuals accidentally meet au
> 
> so yeah, I figure Delsin accidentally "copies" Eagle Sense/Vision. What isn't shown in this little thing is that Desmond has corrupted Apple of Eden powers. When he uses them (when he figures that out tbh) a bunch of gold lines glow across his skin and his eyes glow gold. Can Delsin prob copy that, too? Idk.
> 
> But hey, I had some fun with the banter. I don't think I have a good handle on Desmond's character or how to write his voice. I'm going to work on that.
> 
> original here -> http://shyfoxes.tumblr.com/post/179842653153/but-who-can-say-desmonddelsin


End file.
